Further arrangements having been made, the two officers and Tom Baraka took their departure, promising to report progress.
Mr Hanson was not a man to let the grass grow under his feet, and the old lieutenant was even more eager than his friend to get under weigh.
Within three days they paid another visit to Mr Farrance. They had purchased a schooner of about 150 tons, which had once been a yacht—a fast craft. Hands had been engaged, chiefly from the crew of the “Ione”; three men from Cowes accustomed to fore and aft vessels, one of whom was to act as mate. The fitting out of the schooner would be an easy matter, but the preparations for the land journey required more time and consideration. The only two people who had as yet undertaken to go were Charley Meadows and Tom Baraka. Two stout Africans who had lately arrived in England on board a ship from India, and who stated that when boys they had been captured on the east coast, but had escaped from Madagascar, to which island they had been carried, to an English merchantman, appeared well suited for the undertaking. Mr Hanson was only waiting until he could hear more about them.
Being satisfied with their testimonials he engaged them, and the next day, as he was prosecuting his search in the neighbourhood of the docks, he met with an Arab and three Lascars, of whom, on inquiry of the masters of the ships who brought them home, he obtained a favourable report. The Lascars were brave and useful fellows, while the Arab spoke English fairly, and he had already penetrated some way into the interior of Africa.
Both officers, assisted by Charley Meadows, who had been sent for, were engaged from morning until night in superintending the preparations. The old lieutenant when he quitted home had expected to return, but as the “Hope” was ready for sea, he changed his purpose and wrote to his sister explaining his reasons.
“I don’t want to go through another parting, Sally,” he said. “You know I love you and Mary with all my heart, but that heart is not so tough as it ought to be perhaps, and I could not bear saying ‘good-bye’ again, when I have said it already, although I didn’t think it was for long. If Ned is found, and I make no doubt about the matter, we shall have, I pray God, a happy meeting, and I expect to find Mary grown at least an inch taller, tell her. Don’t either of you fret; whatever happens all will be for the best—of that you may be sure. Should it please Him who governs all things to call me away—and I do not shut my eyes to the possibility—you will find my will in my desk. I have provided, as far as I can, for you and Mary.”
This letter was received the very morning the “Hope” was to sail. It caused considerable disappointment to Aunt Sally and Mary, but they could not help confessing that after all it was for the best.
“My good brother always acts wisely,” said Aunt Sally. “It would have cost us a good deal to say ‘good-bye,’ when we knew he was going away to that terrible country Africa!”
“Perhaps the ‘Hope’ will come off here,” observed Mary; “we shall then see uncle and Tom Baraka, and perhaps Mr Hanson and Charley, and be able to send messages by them to Ned. As they sailed this morning, they may be off here in a couple of days.”
Mary, as may be supposed, kept a constant look-out through the lieutenant’s telescope, but time went by and no schooner appeared. Some days afterwards a letter, which had been landed by a pilot vessel, brought information that the “Hope” was already in the chops of the channel and all well. Aunt Sally and Mary at first felt a great blank in their existence. The lieutenant’s cheery voice was no longer heard, and his chair stood vacant at their daily meals, while, instead of the master, Miss Sally led the morning and evening prayer to the diminished household. Tom Baraka’s merry laugh was also missed, for in spite of his one absorbing thought, he was merry when he gave way to his natural disposition.